Chapter 21
Seren
The scent of woodsmoke drifted through the air as I slid onto the fur-covered floor of the watchtower, stretching my aching feet.
The Vangar officers pretended watchtower duty was a noble responsibility—the first line of defense for our tribe—but I knew better.
Even Amahle and Ciaran had admitted it when they’d become officers: no one wanted this job.
It was pawned off on candidates and pledges.
I only had a few months left as a pledge.
If I make it that long.
I nudged my pack with the toe of my boot, anxiety coiling at the thought of the unread books in there. By now it was too dark to read and all I wanted to do was sleep, even though I was sure my racing mind would prevent that, too.
“Pledge Ragnall.” Darya’s voice cut through the dark quiet.
I shot to my feet, heat creeping onto my face. Being caught sitting wouldn’t do me any favors. Looking over the watchtower’s edge, I spotted her below, standing beside another pledge from our squadron. And Ciaran.
“Break time.” Darya smiled. “Lieutenant Macklyn brought you food.”
Thank the gods for Ciaran. I could hug him.
Grabbing my pack, I swung my leg over the edge and descended the rope quickly. “How long do I have?” I asked as I landed beside them.
“You’re off shift,” she answered. “But stay with the squadron tonight—no conjugal visits. We’re being cautious because of Giulia Bernardi’s death. We still haven’t found her body and there may be a bear stalking the tribe. Don’t wander.”
Calling the squadrons to the training fields, ordering us to sleep in our squadrons … seemed excessive. Unless they suspected something worse than a bear.
I kept my thoughts to myself and followed Ciaran away from the watchtower, eager to sit, take my boots off, and eat.
“How are you? Did you train today?” he asked.
Concern edged his words. My friends didn’t have to say what they were thinking—none of them believed I’d survive the Skorn. “No. Watchtower duty all day. Maybe I’ll get a chance to read by a fire before sleeping. Hopefully Rykr fared better.”
We reached the edge of a brook, where the grass thinned, a tangle of brush and matted leaves scenting the mud with sweet, earthen decay. Dropping down, I pressed my hands over my face, willing the tension away. “Thanks for coming. I’m starving.”
Ciaran sat beside me and pulled a bundle from his satchel—smoked fish wrapped in paper and a small loaf of bread. “My mother packed it for you.” He handed me a waterskin.
I took a grateful sip as he snapped a blade of grass between his fingers. “I don’t understand why Darya didn’t give you time to train. Why put you in a godsdamned watchtower before you have to fight the Skorn?”
It was a good question, one I had pondered too. Seth’s decree?
“And you should know. People are talking about Rykr.”
I frowned. “What about him?”
“They’re questioning how he’s walking around without a single scratch after that flogging. Whispering about dark magic.”
“He has a self-healing ability.” I peeled the skin back from one side of the fish. “Rare, yes, but not dark magic.”
“Healing is Zhi magic. Pendarans don’t have it.”
My fingertips faltered.
Dammit, he’s right. I set the fish down, trying to think. I’d always considered myself clever, but lately, I was missing things. Sluggish. Too close to the situation to see what was obvious.
“Are you worried about dark magic, too? Or is this just because you don’t trust him?”
“I’m worried because he’s Lirien, Seren.” Ciaran tossed a stone into the brook with a splash. “He won’t change because of your oath, or what you’ve done for him. He’s just biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity to strike or to flee. You’d make a huge mistake to trust him.”
I curled my arms around my knees, resting my chin against them. How many times had Ciaran and I sat like this? As children, we’d spent hours playing in streams, diverting them with rocks to float boats we’d created from reeds.
Then, when we were older, we’d take turns keeping watch while the other bathed after brutal days of training for the Vangar. Binding each other’s blistered hands and feet.
Ciaran knew me better than anyone—besides Amahle. I trusted his opinion implicitly.
But his prejudice blinded him. Jealousy, too.
As though to confirm my thoughts—which thankfully he couldn’t hear—Ciaran lifted a hand, settling it at the base of my neck. He rubbed gently, kneading the tension from my shoulders.
Touch was natural for us. I’d never worried about cuddling with him or enjoying his massages. He was like another brother to me. Although, given Madoc spent more time with Tara than me, he was closer than a brother.
But I wasn’t sure if Ciaran saw me the same way anymore. And now Rykr had driven a wedge between us.
“This is all my fault.” Breath snagged in my throat. “I never should have brought him back. I should have tried to heal him alone, in the forest, then we could have gone our separate ways. Maybe I would have broken the law, but I wouldn’t be under all this scrutiny. My honesty counted for nothing.”
The weight of his gaze was on my face, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. “Seren, you … you take too much responsibility for things on your shoulders. Things that aren’t your fault. You deserve to be happy. With someone who loves you and treats you well.”
I bit my lip. Ciaran wanted that someone to be him, though. And he loves me. We told each other everything—our fears our dreams. The deepest things in our hearts.
But despite his hopes, I would never be happy with him. Not the way he wanted. I loved Ciaran, but something about him—his hesitation, his need for certainty, the way his bravery came with a safety net—kept him from ever being the man I’d choose. I wanted someone reckless. Someone fearless.
A man who’d dive off a cliff after me without hesitation, even if he had to figure out how to fly on the way down.
His fingers pressed deeper into tight muscles of my neck, and goosebumps rose on my forearms.
I pasted a smile to my lips, turning toward him so that he was forced to drop his hand. I reached for the food once again. “I’m fine, Ciaran. You don’t have to worry about me.”
His brows drew together. “That’s not true, and you know it. You’re not fine. And even if you were, I’d still worry about you.”
A heavy feeling pressed in on my chest. I didn’t want him to say things that couldn’t be unsaid. Cross lines we couldn’t come back from. “Ci—”
“No. Listen to me.” Ciaran’s warm hand rested on my shoulder. “I don’t care what anyone else in our tribe thinks—I know your marriage to Westhaven is just a sham. A sham because you’re a good person and you didn’t want him to be killed. And it worries me because you’re in danger because of him.”
My pulse beat in my throat, heat pooling in my cheeks. Despite my better judgment, I met Ciaran’s gaze. “You don’t have to protect me from Rykr. He’d never hurt me. If only because he’d end up hurt in return.”
“There are plenty of ways he could hurt you without killing you and you know it.” Ciaran lifted his hands to my face, cupping my jaw, his thumbs brushing lightly along my cheekbones.
“I love you, Ser. I think you know that. And the only thing keeping that tarse alive is that I don’t want something to happen to you. ”
I searched his gaze, my stomach tightening. Ciaran had never been quite this bold. But maybe Rykr’s presence had pushed him to say what he hadn’t dared to before.
Before he could take it any further, I leaned in and pressed a gentle, platonic kiss to his cheek. “I know you do.” I tried to move gracefully out of his grasp, not wanting to yank away like a startled deer, but he caught my hand.
A forlorn expression fogged his eyes. “I don’t think you understand—”
“Don’t.” My fingers tightened against his. “Don’t say things you can’t take back. Rykr may be a Lirien, but I …” I care about him.
There.
I’d admitted it. To myself, at least, even if I couldn’t say it aloud yet. Especially not to Ciaran.
His face flushed. “I don’t think Westhaven is doing you any good. You seem … different since you took that oath. He’s not a good influence on you.”
I rolled my eyes and tore my hands away.
Covering the food he’d brought, I stored it in my pack, my appetite vanishing.
“I’ve known him for a handful of days and now he’s changing me?
Maybe you’re just blinded by your prejudice.
I appreciate you wanting me to be happy, but you have every reason not to like him. Admit it.”
His throat bobbed. “I’ll admit it. I don’t like him. But who is he, anyway? I understand why you made that oath, but that doesn’t have to mean I like what happened. Or that he’s here. I’ll stand by you, Seren, but Seth wasn’t wrong to question what you did. It was dangerous, and it broke our laws.”
His words hit me hard. Ugly, untamed anger flared through me. “So now Seth is the good guy? I deserved twenty lashes, then?”
“No, no. You know I hate what he did. But Seth being a hagspawn doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the best interest of the Viori at heart—especially where Liriens are concerned.”
I stood, brushing off the leaves from my backside. “I’m done discussing this, Ciaran. Maybe my decision was extreme, fine. But now Seth is right about Rykr and I’m not? That’s not loyalty and you fucking know it.” I whirled on my heels to go.
“Seren, that’s not what I mea—”
I threw him a withering glare. “It doesn’t matter. It’s what you said. And I’m pretty damn sick of men telling me they know better about everything where I’m concerned.”
Ciaran scowled, scrambling to his feet awkwardly. “I never really thought I had a chance with you, Seren. Not really. And I know that you’re … his, now. But all I’m asking is that if that’s how things are going to be, you be careful.”
I covered my face with my palm. “First, I’m not his. I don’t belong to anyone, let alone Rykr.”
I can’t be at war with my friends. Not right now. Not with everything else I have going on.